One Shots: Berets Edition
by One Shiny Mess
Summary: One shots for The A-Team television serial from the '80s written in response to prompts for a meme on livejournal. Some will be general, some slash, some explicit.
1. Chapter 1: Curtain Call

Title: Curtain Call

Characters: Face and Murdock.

Note: written for a prompt at a_team_kink over on LJ. The requester was kind about the lack of smexing. (Everyone is awesome over there, if anyone is nervous about checking it out.)

Summary: They don't make Murdock go undercover often for a lot of reasons, but mostly because of this.

Warning: Language? Written for a prompt at a href="http:/a_team_.com"The A-Team Kink Meme/a.

_I told Hannibal_, Face thought, careful to keep his face blank as he listened to "Martin" and the other mercenaries trade stories about the fucked up things they'd facilitated in pursuit of money. _I told him Murdock couldn't do this without getting lost. Damn it._

_Does he even remember us?_ Face wondered, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. "Harrison," he barked. Murdock glanced up coolly, and Face flinched internally at the sight of those brown eyes so hard. He jerked his head at the door. "Rounds."

The other guards laughed lowly and shrugged Murdock out of the group, and Face let him lead the way out of the room, thankful they'd managed to rig up the drawing for pairs in rounds before Murdock went balls to the wall **crazy** and method-acted his way to a small-minded criminal who didn't give a shit the boss was killing Chinese immigrants in his sweat-shop **on purpose**.

He had to do something: Hannibal and BA were set to sneak in over the back wall as he and Murdock walked by to disguise any movements. Face had already sabotaged the monitoring equipment.

He needed Murdock back, though. Maybe... "You ever had a dog?"

Murdock glanced over, still hard-eyed Martin Harrison, who had never been anything so cute as a kid in his life. "What?"

Face shrugged. "A dog." He nodded to the yard. "Reminds me of a place I visited one summer." Actually, a place they'd recently been to on a mission. "Friend of mine had a dog, Billy." He glanced over but there was no recognition.

"Actually, he had two, but Billy is the normal one-other one's one of those small dogs. The yappy kind, you know? Calls it Socky."

_Nothing._ Face swallowed a curse and realized they had five minutes before they hit the rendezvous point, and Murdock blew the whistle on his own team.

He tried again. "You ever been in a plane?"

"You're pretty chatty tonight," Murdock said flatly.

Face shrugged casually. _Shit, shit, shit. Damn it, Hannibal, what's the plan for this?_ "Just asking. That friend of mine, he's a pilot. Guess I got to thinking about him." He swallowed and forced a laugh. "He's a crazy motherfucker, though."

"And he flies?" Murdock asked absently. Face looked over and realized Murdock was frowning faintly. Not the same as he had been though. More confused than anything.

_Yes,_ he thought fiercely. "Best damn pilot I've ever seen," he said, looking around. _Come on Murdock, you can beat this._ "My best friend, too."

"Why you even telling me about this?" Murdock asked angrily, grabbing his arm and glaring, focusing on Face because his head wasn't making sense.

Face stopped and looked at Murdock seriously. "Because he **is** my best friend, and I'm afraid I'm losing him."

"Fucking sappy," Murdock said, trying to force the snarl back into his tone.

Face heard right through it to the uncertainty and confusion. "Murdock, please," he said softly. "I need **you**."

Murdock opened his mouth like he was going to shout, then closed it with a grimace and finally buried his face in his hands.

Face waited carefully, ready to run to the wall if Murdock lost to Martin.

Finally, Murdock looked up. "M'I really your best friend, Face?"

Face relaxed with a large sigh. "You're damn right you are," he said, clapping Murdock's shoulder fiercely. They stood like that, and Murdock slowly smiled at Face. Wider and wider. They both started laughing and then Face had his arms around him, hugging him fiercely. "I missed you," he said into Murdock's temple, getting a mouthful of hair and not caring.

Murdock held him just as tightly. "I missed me too," he said, burying his face briefly in Face's shoulder. Then he pulled back to look at Face earnestly. "Let's tell Hannibal not to plan with me in mind as the conman again, oay

Face was nodding before he'd finished the sentence, then both of their eyes widened. "Hannibal!"

They both took off to meet them at the rendezvous point before Hannibal and BA charged in, guns blazing.


	2. Chapter 2: Sport us while we may

Title: Sport us while we may

Characters: Face/Hannibal, TV-verse.

Summary: Hannibal inexplicable de-ages.

Note/Warning: Well, there's off-camera gay sex. Also, title shamelessly stolen from Andrew Marvel's poem _To his Coy Mistress_. I'm sure he'd be pleased. Written for a prompt at a href="http:/a_team_.com"The A-Team Kink Meme/a.

"I can't believe you found the Fountain of Youth and can't remember where it was," Face moaned. "We'd be set _forever_, Hannibal! Hell, we could use that kind of leverage to guarantee a retrial!"

Hannibal snorted. "I told you I didn't visit any fountains - or springs, or brooks, or lakes, not so much as a mud puddle - yesterday, kid." He shrugged. "For the best, probably: look at the population problems we have now."

Face scowled a little longer, but finally sighed. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, looking away.

Hannibal clapped his shoulder. "There we go," he said with a slightly mean smile. "Now, I haven't felt this good in ages, so I think now's a good time to spar."

_Oh, this is going to be fun,_ Face thought. "You uh, sure about that?" he asked, taking stock of their surroundings. BA was in the corner, still looked like he was processing Hannibal's ten-year face-lift. Murdock didn't have any issues with it, and he would probably be happy to spar, but it was his turn to make dinner. "I don't think it's a great idea, Hannibal, you need to get used to your body again-"

"It's a great idea, kid," Hannibal said, smirking around his cigar.

Face frowned at him for a minute, then sighed and nodded compliantly when Hannibal didn't yield. "Of course you do," he muttered. Hannibal's eyes narrowed and Face reached out and snatched the cigar.

"Lieutenant-"

"We're going to be sparring, Colonel," Face said mildly. "Regulations are against smoking in the rec...area."

They both looked around the open space in the living room, and the surrounding furniture. Face thoughtfully passed the cigar back over. "Should probably head outside if we still want to stay here another week," he said.

Hannibal glared at him through a curl of smoke.

_Oh, yeah,_ Face thought again, forcing a smile and trying to ignore the heat in his gut. _Fun._

Face landed - again - with a grunt. At least he was on his back this time, not face down in the mud. Hannibal kneeled on his chest, one hand to Face's throat just above his Adam's apple.

"Yield," Face croaked out.

Hannibal looked down with a reassuring smile and didn't move. He pulled out a cigar and put it to Face's mouth. "Hold this for me, will you Face?"

Face swallowed, throat working against Hannibal's hand. They stared at each other for a minute, both filthy, both having been put down on the ground, both of them with bruises waiting to darken from the bouts of their spar. Hannibal watched him curiously, almost the expression he turned on a mark they were about to fleece.

Hannibal had always been an intimidating opponent. He was strong, had the height and weight to threaten Face and was unpredictable. It wasn't as bad when they sparred outside, with less variables to add to the field, but Hannibal was still the man with the plan, even if he only had three seconds to line it up. And he didn't underestimate Face, which Face usually relied on in fights.

Now he was all of that, and the same age as Face. His hair was back to a light brown streaked through with blond and silver, his wrinkles had lightened though the laugh lines were still there, and _dear God the man was fast._

Face had taken him down one out of their four matches, and Hannibal had just won the fourth.

Hannibal smirked slightly in response to the silent challenge and leaned forward, putting a little more weight on Face's diaphragm. "Thought you yielded," he murmured.

Face could have said something about not smoking, turned his head, asked Hannibal if they were finally going to make good on those rumors about them. If he turned it into a joke, Hannibal would laugh and let him up and they'd keep sparring, finding the length of his new endurance, his flexibility and power.

He held Hannibal's eyes silently just long enough to register the pupils dilating, long enough to make sure Hannibal saw everything he was actually showing for once, then looked down and opened his mouth. _Your move, Hannibal. _

Hannibal paused a moment. Face could almost see his mind working through the repurcussions, the years spent on the cusp of this and not going through with it because of the Army, because they both needed the Green Berets for different reasons. Now they were out - even if it wasn't voluntary, they were their own small unit, and none of them personally had issues with homosexuality.

Hannibal pressed the cigar that small final distance, and waited until Face looked up clearly enough to lock eyes, and then pushed the cigar between his lips. Face held his eyes as he delicately closed his teeth around the cigar.

Hannibal held it there for a minute, eyes a sharp blue, focused on his face, then let it go to reach for his lighter. He paused before flicking, eyebrow arching slightly. Asking him how far he wanted to go, giving him an out without either of them having to say a word.

Face hesitated a fraction of a second before he closed his eyes slightly, looked down and tilted his chin forward. As far as you want, Face responded to the silent question. I've waited for this too long to tell you no.

Hannibal lit the cigar, and Face knew enough to make it look good. He inhaled enough for the smoke to fill his mouth, held it there and then exhaled through his nose. The smell and taste was everywhere, mixing with Hannibal's sweat in his nose and filling his mouth with a flavor he'd long associated with Hannibal.

"Thanks, kid," Hannibal murmured, tapping the cigar once in warning, and then pulling it away from Face. Face let him but kept his teeth on it so he had to tug slightly. He smiled slowly when it was gone, as Hannibal slid it between his own lips thoughtfully.

"Sure thing, Hannibal," he said.

Hannibal eyed him for a moment before he shifted back and let go of Face's throat. He moved to the side and sat back on his heels as Face propped himself up on one elbow, the other exploring his throat.

"Are you?" Hannibal asked after a minute, voice mild.

Face looked at him sharply, and then laughed a little. "For you?" he asked, and nodded a response to his own question. "Let's not pretend we haven't been dancing around it for years. If you don't mind."

Hannibal cocked his head. "Some of the reasons we just danced are still there, Face," he pointed out.

Face shrugged. _At least we're talking about it_, he consoled himself mentally. Rather be doing something else about it but God knows it isn't the first time I've had to argue my case. "We're not in the Army, BA and Murdock won't care - hell, Murdock'll probably throw us a parade." He looked Hannibal over frankly, lingering on his shoulders and hips before returning to his face. "The only thing you could've said is you're fifteen years older than me. Which you aren't. At the moment." He smirked. "Actually, I might even be older than you right now."

Hannibal snorted. "I only look younger, kid," he pointed out, then he grabbed the arm Face was leaning on and stood, pulling Face up with him.

Face could tell negotiations were over. This was end game. "So what's the plan, Hannibal?"

Hannibal took a mouthful of smoke before he replied. "Got some logistics to work out," he pointed out after a minute.

Face processed that - and everything it meant - in half a second. He smiled brightly. "I'm good with details," he pointed out.

Hannibal smiled.

Murdock whistled, leaning over the sink for the view out the window.

BA glanced up from the table where he was sorting his mail. Face was supposed to do this today, but then Hannibal woke up looking ten years younger and most of their plans for the set up they were laying down got pushed back. "Did he break him?"

Murdock shook his head, eyes bright as he glanced over. "He might, but I uh..." He glanced back out the window and shook his head. "Don't think it's gonna be in a way Faceman don't want, if you get me."

BA blinked. "Huh?" Murdock kept looking and BA frowned. "What you talking about?"

Murdock was silent, still looking out the window. BA leaned forward. "Are you blushing, Murdock?"

Murdock looked quickly over, almost guilty. His cheeks were definitely red. "A mutual breaking, big guy," he said, ignoring BA's question. "I'm uh...gonna go take a nap. Feeling tired." His eyes flicked out the window again and his flush continued to spread. i"Beinmybunkbye!"/i

BA tried to snag him on his way passed, but Murdock was wily, and already moving. He let it go in favor of moving to the window. He leaned over the sink and craned his head like Murdock had done before he started acting crazy, and his eyes widened. iHannibal...what the hell are you doing to the kid?/i

BA backed up, feeling a little warm himself. He sat back at the table and tried to finish reviewing the notes from their different contacts, but couldn't get the image of Hannibal, young and strong and clearly as hopped up on the jazz as he ever was, pinning Face to the ground. It could've just been sparring, but...didn't look like any sparring he'd ever done with either of them before.

He realized he'd been reading the same letter for twenty minutes and finally couldn't take it anymore. He went quickly back to the sink, but if Face and Hannibal were still outside, they'd moved to one of the vantage's blind spots. He thought about what they might be doing and decided Murdock had had the right idea, for once in his crazy life, and retreated to his room for privacy's sake.

Later:

"You made an offer earlier, Face," Hannibal said mildly where he was sitting against pillows at the headboard.

Face looked up, took a moment to appreciate the view from the food of the bed. The sheets were a mess, tangled half over and half under Hannibal's legs. His very nice legs. He blinked and forced himself to stop ogling, and remembered the question. "Oh?"

"Hm," Hannibal smiled. "At the end of our spar, Lieutenant. Do you remember?"

Face flushed faintly. "I...may recall something being...implied."

Hannibal looked him over and smirked. "Implied?" he asked casually. "I'd say it was more of a promise. Wouldn't you?"

Face swallowed at the predatory sharpness of Hannibal's gaze. "I can see how someone might read it that way."

Hannibal sat back and smiled. "Why don't you tell me how you wanted to be read, Lieutenant."

Face met his eyes and wondered why he was only now starting to feel naked, when he'd lost his clothes an hour ago. Hannibal's smile was a little irritating. Pricked his pride. _Haven't been a blushing virgin in a long time,_ he thought, amused and irritated that Hannibal still had the power to unsettle him. It wasn't a bad thing - since meeting Hannibal, his greatest enemy, boredom, had almost never caught Face in it's teeth - but it wasn't an entirely comfortable feeling, being out of control so regularly.

_I think it's time to remind Hannibal who he's getting involved with._ "How about I show you, instead?" Face asked with an inviting smile.

Hannibal spread his thighs and tilted his head in challenge. "By all means."

Face smirked.


End file.
